


Of Thieves and Princes

by soulgusttheguardian



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:20:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulgusttheguardian/pseuds/soulgusttheguardian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Marik wanted was to find love, outside his duties as prince. All Bakura needs is to live another day to find out where his parents and relatives are. {Aladdin themed plot. Request for operagoose.}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The sun beat down relentlessly onto the desert. The wind howled over the empty expanses of land between what few cities were present in the unforgiving wasteland. As footsteps and traces were washed away by it, the dunes and rolls of both sand and rock absorbed the heat without complaint.

In the cities, people were doing their best to avoid being outside. Many of them had finished their shopping as early as possible to deter from being caught in the high noon heat. The street vendors were out of course; they were always there early. Dressed appropriately to hide in the shade of their shops and greet customers.

The biggest of these markets was that of the large Egyptian city where the Palace of the highest family was. The people in this town had long been ruled by kind and caring princesses and princes, and this time was no exception.

Well, two thirds no exception.

\-----------------------

Under the shadow of the palace wall, a tall man with broad shoulders was slinking around. A long blue wrap was draped over his hips, and a red cloth that was embroidered with yellow about his shoulders. His sandals made scuffling sounds as he ducked behind a building quickly to avoid a large group of people approaching. Once they had passed, he gave a small smirk and snuck up behind them. The line formation they were in made it easy for him to slip a hand into one boy's robe pocket and produce a few coins from it, before rushing off. 

His eyes were cold and stormy grey as they scanned the crowds; looking for another victim. Out of habit he ran a hand over his unruly white hair. He knew these streets like the back of his hand; he had been here long enough after all. It helped when one spends the majority of their life having to sulk through them under the cover of dark. The only reason he was out this morning even was the fact he had run out of the food he had stolen last week. The man quickly glanced at the coins he had taken from the boy. Not much, but it would at least buy him enough for the day. 

Except that stealing was easiest to get away with when you were actually buying something as well.

The thought brought another grin to his face. Finally he reached the busy market streets; his gaze set on the stand where a young girl worked. He had heard her talk before while he was hiding near, and knew both that she made lots of mistakes while working and that she was easily flustered. When someone came by and spoke nicely to her she focused only on them and ignored everything else to the point that she often even left the booth to talk to them. 'Stupid girl.' He thought. 

Even now she was talking to a man just to the side of her stand. He was thin and cheerful; with black hair and emerald eyes. In contrast to her own brown hair and blue eyes, he stood out. Not many people in the desert had such pale skin. The thief sauntered over and carefully examined an apple with disinterest. The girl glanced at him briefly "Oh just a moment!" She said before looking back at the pale man.

"No problem." The man added. She answered something the other had said quickly with a smile, just as the white haired man snuck a few of the apples into his arms under his cloak. By the time the girl had returned to her booth, he was gone to the other side of the street.

A few minutes later, he found himself in a rundown attic of an old building, far from where most citizens lived. This had been his home for many long years, and it was evident in the few things he had stolen that wasn't food (some clothing, gold jewelry and an assortment of blankets). A large red tapestry was hung up over one side to keep the night cold winds out, and a smaller green one with the pattern of an Egyptian god was on the far right of the middle floor, at the bottom of the staircase leading to the opening the other tapestry covered. As the man emerged from the hole in the floor into his home, he coughed from the dry air. The green needlework was pulled back over the hole, and he dropped the apples from his sleeves onto the pile of blankets he used for a bed. 

"Oh man." He groaned, stretching his neck. "It is way too hot." Carefully he pulled on the corner of his red robe until it slid to pool in his lap. 

The man turned to gaze out the small window beside him. A sudden image of things long past flashed before him, and he took hold of an apple angrily as if to crush the nostalgia in his heart. 

"One day.." He whispered. "I will get away from this. And I will find my parents too."

Determination surged through him, as he smiled and bit into the apple with a snapping sound.

\-----------------------

"Marik? Marik!" A woman's voice echoed through the empty halls of the palace along with the sound of hard bottomed sandals. Her long hair was a dark black color, dancing around behind her as she briskly stalked down the corridors. The white alabaster and gold accents in swirling patterns cast ancient runes onto the floor, and images of Egyptian creatures and Gods were upon the walls. The woman huffed as she came again to a hall devoid of the blonde she was looking for. "Marik, for Ra's sake. Where have you gone?" Her patience was wearing out and she didn't have time to play hide and seek with her younger sibling.

"Isis,"

The woman looked up, down the hall to her right where a man had appeared. His head was bald except for a black ponytail on the back of his neck, and his eyes were dark. On his left temple was the inscription of their ancient family ritual, healed but not faded.

"Rishid," Isis answered. "Have you seen-"

"Marik is in the courtyard." He briefly answered, sensing his sister's distress.

She smiled. "Thank you." She grabbed bunches of her dark, royal purple robes in her hands so it wouldn't drag as she broke into a slight jog in the correct direction. Outside, she stepped onto the top of the stairs leading to the courtyard and glared slightly when she spotted her intended target on the far side; near one of the ponds. Isis gathered the dress again and tiptoed down the stairs slowly. "Marik." She snapped. 

The boy sitting on the rim of the pond innocently looked over at her with his wide, entrancing lavender eyes. His blonde hair was once again a mess (somehow it just made him look even more alluring though. Combined with the fact almost no one in Egypt was blonde) as he laid there with his feet in the air behind him. His left sandal was being chewed on by the red lizard dragon he had as a pet. Isis almost sheid away at it. Ever since Marik had first played with the ancient creatures, he had made his Slyfeir into a house pet by shrinking it's size dramatically with the help of a magician. His other shoe was hanging off his upside down foot. His own robes were a bright white; a sort of tunic with a brown, gold engraved belt, and gold jewelry around his forearms. A pair of gold earrings hung from his ears. Usually he dressed nicer but he wasn't going anywhere today (and apparently not meeting anyone important either). "Yes sister?" He murmured.

She pursed her lips. "What are you doing out here? I told you someone was coming to meet you." She gave the dragon a wary glance when it growled and attacked the shoe again. 

Marik grinned and said "He won't hurt you sis." Just as the creature in question tossed it's toy aside and jumped up next to the blonde to curl up on his back and around his neck. Isis sighed.

"Animal aside, why are you out here? You know it is important to meet these people. After all, you can't keep refusing proposals." She scolded. "When will you just pick one?"

The boy's eyes suddenly became angry. "Isis I find no value in marrying someone who I don't know-much less love!" He replied. 

The girl folded her arms over her chest and turned away from him. Honestly. Did he really not understand the importance of this? The country needed to make an alliance to help the citizens and to prevent more waring. But Marik refused to even give the suitors a second glance! At first Isis and Rishid had begun to suspect that Marik refused the princesses who came because he had decided he was gay, and so they had extended the announcement of Marik's being of age to many princes as well. Isis couldn't deny that many of them would have made excellent allies, even if they were guys, but their personalities were so cold she could tell they would just use and hurt Marik along with his position for their own gain. And as infuriating as her brother could be about half the time, she didn't want him to be hurt.

"Marik." Isis finally said, moving to sit beside him. His gold jewelry made a jangling sound as he scrambled to sit up and sent Slyfeir crawling away. The boy looked kind once more while he gazed upon his elder sibling. "You know how much this matters..."

"I know." Marik assured. "I just...I don't want to be with someone I don't actually care about."

Isis slightly frowned but leaned closer and put a hand on Marik's shoulder. "Brother... You know we don't have that luxury right now." Her voice was soft, pained. She didn't think she would be happy in a forced marriage either. The only reason she didn't have to worry so much about it was because Marik was technically the only one of them who could rule. Rishid was adopted so he was not of royal blood, and Isis (being a woman) wasn't to rule anywhere. She just got sent to another palace to be a quiet wife. (Luckily that wasn't a huge priority). "The people are suffering from the raids during the attacks recently. We need allies."

Marik's cheekbones flushed with anger, but he didn't reply. Instead, he got both of his sandals with his toes and slipped them on. Once he had, he stood and simply strode to the far side of the courtyard with his pet right behind him. Isis almost rolled her eyes. Why was he so stubborn?

She clenched her hands together delicately. 'If I could find love for Marik I would.. But what can I do? He can't wait around for it to come to him...' Her eyes turned toward the direction the city was in, mournfully praying that they would find a solution to this all.


	2. Chapter 2

It was evening, and the Palace was alive with guests from earlier that day; all gathered into the dinner hall to enjoy a meal with each other. Most the people who had come were servants to the real guest-a loud, eccentric, blue eyed prince named Jounochi-who had come to meet Marik. No one was actually sure if he wanted to marry Marik or if he was just looking for a royalty friend. But nevertheless once Marik had actually been taken (or drug) into the hall and he saw the blonde, he was amazed because he had always been told he was the only Egyptian to be blonde. When he engaged Jounochi about it, the prince eagerly swallowed a large bite of meat and explained that he was only half Egyptian and only half royalty, but he was the only son his father had been able to have (he never married, but met Jounochi's mother when she came to visit Egypt). Marik assumed that meant he just wasn't one of those kings that slept around, or he just liked Jounochi's mother too much to have another woman with him.

Marik was excited by the tale, and asked his new friend if he had ever visited any interesting places with his mother. The rest of the night was spent with the two boys gossiping about China, America, and Russia, among many other countries Marik had never even heard of. He and Jounochi decided they would go back to these places together one day (after Marik's wedding issues were resolved).

"So," Jounochi began quietly. Marik looked up from his plate and met the blue eyes he had come to know by now. "What is the deal with all this wedding nonsense?" He asked.

Marik groaned, thankful his sister wasn't nearby. "I am supossed to be marrying someone now that I am 15, but I just am not interested in the slightest in any of the suitors who come by." He explained. "My sister says it's important, and I know that, but still..." As he spoke he leaned forward to draw patterns on the table around his plate. "Is it wrong of me to want actual love?"

Jounochi smiled and nodded. "My advisors keep telling me to just pick up a rich princess and be done with it, but I agree with you. They're always on and on about how it needs to be done and such and I just can't think of it that way. Marriage is supossed to be certain things, and doing it for riches or land just doesn't feel right."

Marik's eyes went wide at his friend's perception. "Exactly." He breathed. Jounochi smiled at him again, through his eyelashes and Marik couldn't stop himself from flushing. He had never met anyone that shared his views... He couldn't believe that there was another royal with his opinion.

The rest of the conversation switched quickly to Jounochi's own country when Isis approached them. She was smiling but Marik saw the hidden intent in her eyes.

She had seen them getting along.

That meant Marik had no real excuse to give her if he refused any proposal Jounochi gave him.

Great.

He sighed and decided to ignore her for the sake of having an actual friend. And they continued to chat long after the servants had cleaned up the food and most had gone to their quarters. At one point, Marik yawned and Jounochi laughed.

"Hey man, maybe you should go on to bed. I'll be here tomorrow too so we can talk then."

Marik smiled. He was incredibly surprised by Jounochi's friendly language, but at the same time it made him settled and at ease. Which he rarely got. "Thanks. Good night then." 

Jounochi stood and gestured to his closest servant (who had stayed nearby to walk him to his room). "You too."

 

As soon as Marik opened his door he was assaulted with Isis' voice.

"Did he extend a proposal?"

Marik snapped his head to look at her with a glare. She was standing beside his closet door to the far left side of the room, hands on her hips. He shut the door and went to his bed; in the back right corner a good ten feet away. "No." He said simply. He began to gather his sleeping clothes from the other side of his bed where he had thrown them that morning. Isis was practically fuming out her ears as she came closer. 

"Why not?"

Marik looked at her incredulously. "Really? You're going to ask me why he didn't do something? How would I know?"

Isis's eyes narrowed. "You were making friends. He is your best shot if you want any kind of relationship outside of a bed with your partner."

The words made Marik sick to his stomach. Of course he knew marrying for political reasons meant that really the only thing you did was bed related aside from sit and quietly agree with whatever your husband says, and attend boring meetings he was speaking at, but to hear his sister admit it... Was she really okay with that? 

"How can that not bother you?" He whispered as he unsnapped his belt and let it fall to the ground. His eyes met hers with fear flooding them. "Are you really so..."

"So what?"

"...Tame." He bit back just as she finished. "You have been tamed by this screwed up system and you can't understand." Marik's voice was now pleading her. "I don't want that! I don't want to be a lap dog that sits and stays and behaves obediently in bed!" Isis' cheeks burned at his open suggestion even though she had made it as well. 

"Watch your words!" She hissed.

"No." He replied harshly. "Listen to me! I don't want any of that! I just want to be free and make my own choices! Why can't I do that?"

"Because you are a prince." Isis answered with a sudden edge. "That is your duty. If you will not take a bride who is okay with that and trained for that, then you will be a husband's bitch who listens and stays quiet and does whatever he wants because that is your duty."

The last few words were enunciated and said slowly. Marik felt his heart drop at everything she was saying. Anger surged through him, and with a growl he grabbed a dark cloak from his bed and slung it over one shoulder. He stalked through his elegant, almost see through lavender curtain and stood on the balcony seething. 

"...Brother, sleep on this and in the morning be prepared. If you do not approach Jounochi with an invitation, I will choose your partner."

The door opened and slammed shut as Isis left and Marik was left with his thoughts. 

He glanced at the spot she had just been before putting the cloak on and stepping onto the balcony rail. He judged the distance down to the grass, then thought better of it and decided to call his dragon to carry him down. Luckily Slyfeir was asleep just below and heard him when he called. The red creature took flight and reached him quickly with a pleasant grumble. Marik smiled at him and said "Alright, buddy.. Can you take me just over the Palace wall?"

Slyfeir made a sad sound but did as told once Marik had fastened his arms and legs around him. The dragon landed carefully on the top of the wall before scampering down it. Marik laughed at the feeling and wondered if people always got feelings like this when they did something they weren't supossed to be. At the bottom of the wall, the blonde boy petted Slyfeir before telling him to go back home. The dragon whined again (he learned that from a neighbor's dog) before sadly doing as told. Once he was gone, Marik turned toward the city. For the first time, nervous butterflies filled him but he ignored them and started to walk.

 

"Bakura, you asshole! Move this damn rug, dammit!" 

The thief in question groaned as he was forced to wake up and he yelled back "Shut the hell up, someone will find you!"

"No one comes to this part of town except homeless bums! Now move this rug!"

A hand was beating on the tapestry Bakura had covered the hole up with last night and he was about to move it but changed his mind. "Nah. You just called me an asshole and a homeless bum."

An exasperated sigh came from under the rug. "You know I didn't mean it. You call me worse."

Bakura pursed his lips thoughtfully and tapped his chin. "This is true.. But you deserved being called a cunt that one time."

A growl escaped the man under the rug as he beat it harder. "I did not! How was I being a cunt?"

"You were trying to hump a bucket.." Bakura explained slowly.

"HEY that was the only time we have had wine in a year. Of course I drank a lot!"

Bakura chuckled. "Whatever. Cunt."

"Say that to my face, dick hole!"

"You'd like that." The white haired thief snorted in response.

The man down below finally stopped hitting the rug and Bakura raised an eyebrow curiously. After a few moments though, he heard a sawing noise and looking to see his companion cutting a hole through the rug with a knife. He scrambled to his feet and shoved the knife back down with his heel. "Don't you cut my tapestries, bitch. These are expensive!"

"God you're a whore." The other man muttered as Bakura finally moved the rug and he could lift himself into the room. He dusted himself off, feet swinging in the hole as he mumbled something about loving his rug more than his best friend.

Bakura rolled his eyes. "Where did you go yesterday, Yami?"

The man smirked as he leaned back on his hands. His skin was dark, and his hair was a wild mess of black, red and yellow. Around his eyes were obscene amounts of kohl that he had stolen from a rich woman once. He wore a simple, dirty tunic with a belt around his stomach and gold colored sandals he had also taken from the rich woman. (Neither of them questioned his feet fitting women shoes). He reached in a pouch he had brought up with him and pulled out a set of gold pots proudly. "Snagged these from a man who wanted to fuck. He fell asleep before we even got home so I invited myself in anyway. Once I found it." He added. "Damn pain to find the only house that has green cloth in the front window." 

Bakura took one of the pots and studied it. "He just had these laying around?" His friend nodded. "Wonder where he got them."

"Apparently his family used to be really rich." 

The taller man shrugged. "Well we can sell them later. I have to go out to get something I forgot yesterday."

Yami nodded and flung himself onto the opposite corner where his own pile of blankets was. "I'm exhausted!" He sang with enunciated syllables. 

"So sleep." Bakura replied as he gathered some things into a small bag. When he was done he dropped it through the hole and said "But cover the hole after I leave."

The tanned man smirked wickedly. "Sure thing. And then I can call you obscene names through the rug."

"Cunt." Bakura muttered before jumping through the hole. Yami's last response was a loud 'Whore!' Before the rug moved into place. Bakura picked up his bag and headed back toward the market. He hadn't really forgotten anything yesterday, but he had seen some things in one of the stands he thought his friend would like (seeing how the bastard coated his eyes in kohl everyday) and he needed new sandals. Besides, he had been restless lately, and he couldn't explain it but he felt like he should be at the market. 

It was still early so not many people were walking around, which made it easier for Bakura to get where he was going. However, he had hoped he could find someone alone and snag him into an alley to take his shoes. Obviously that wasn't going to happen though. 

In the market, his eyes went to the stand where an older man was working. He knew this man vaguely; once when he had come across Yami stealing he had given him boxes of food and clothes before wishing him well. Since then they hadn't seen him; because he was part of a caravan, but he didn't look a bit different from that day. Bakura decided to approach him from behind to get into his supplies, so he surveyed the wall just behind him. It was too tall to discretely hop over. However there was a wide hole near the bottom he could climb through. With a smirk the thief began to head around the wall.

 

Marik was in awe of all the things being sold in the market. That was probably an understatement. He couldn't even blink he was so captivated by the entertainers bouncing around shoppers and chatting loudly. One of them was walking across a mat of spikes, and he cringed as he imagined that would hurt a lot. As he gathered his wits to travel in, his shoulder was knocked hard by a man turning the corner to leave the street. Marik stumbled back a few steps before he turned on him angrily. 

"Watch yourself!" The man snapped. His eyes met Marik's for only a second before he continued, but Marik stared after.

Was that eye color even natural? He wondered. Such a pretty grey seemed wrong on someone so rude.

He scoffed and decided to ignore him. Not far off, a woman was trying to sell a bright blue lapis necklace to a man for his wife. Marik's eyes settled on it immediately.

Isis...

He rushed over to the woman and said "Excuse me.. How much are you selling this for?"

The woman gave him a curious glance. Her hair was long and very blonde, curly around her face, and her eyes were a bright purple. She smiled at him after a moment and said "For a girlfriend?"

"Sister." He responded. "She and I have been fighting lately.."

The woman's face said she knew that feeling. "Ah. Sibling love." She laughed. Marik laughed too, this woman looked like she didn't get to laugh much so he wanted to encourage it. She turned and rolled the necklace in a piece of cloth before handing it to him. "Take it."

Marik blinked. "No way," 

"I insist!"

The prince met her eyes. She was serious. "Ah... No, please." He gave her a small bag he had brought with some gold in it and said, "Take this. And thank you."

Her eyes bulged as she felt the bag, a slow smile creeping onto her face. "Thank you, stranger. The Gods smile on you." She made a praying gesture before finishing "I am Mai. Let us meet again." And heading to another customer.

Marik tucked the package into his robes before turning to go. He didn't have more money, so he decided he would probably have to head home soon...

After he explored.

 

Bakura waited until the man was in front of his stand before sneaking up behind it through the wall; and ducking between two crates. He searched one frantically and smiled when he happened upon a large, new pair of sandals inside it. The bonus was that some girl's stuff was sitting nearby and he snatched a thing of black and blue kohl for his friend. Now back through the wall, he mused. 

As he headed back towards his home, he spotted someone talking to the blonde vendor who sold jewelry, and the large pouch of money he handed her. This kid was obviously loaded. And if not, their house was sure to be.

Bakura stopped in his tracks and spun on his heels to face the way the kid was going. Only when they were several feet away did he start to follow though.

He was a little confused at all the glancing around the kid was doing, and how they paused to stare at things occasionally. Were they new here or something?

After a few minutes they were relatively alone and Bakura sensed his target wasn't actually heading to any kind of home. There was an alley up ahead he knew; so he took the chance to rush forward, covering the kid's mouth and silencing his gasp, and drag him into it.

"Do you have money?" He whispered in a hushed voice.

The kid had tensed, obviously frightened, and was staring down. Bakura growled impatiently. "Do you?" He grabbed the cloak and shoved them into the wall. With a pained gasp, the kid flung his head up to meet Bakura's gaze and snapped back.

"What the hell? Do you just mug people for the fun of it? Do I look like I have money, you asshole?"

Bakura was speechless. 

Not just by his outburst-and that was plenty surprising. No one ever stood up like that to him. But by the face that had been revealed. His eyes were a bright lavender, surrounded by light layers of the damn makeup Yami loved so much. His bangs were long, as was the rest of his hair, and a pale blonde color. Was he a foreigner..? Impossible; he was too dark skinned..

The thief didn't realize he was staring until his captive's expression had changed from angry to curious, and a light blush had formed on his upper cheeks. His gold earrings tipped as he moved his head, and the gold band around his neck looked much too fancy to be anything other than stolen.

Was he a thief too?

 

Marik's back ached from being slammed into the wall, and a slight headache had formed in his temple, but he ignored it as his outburst faded and he studied the man who had pulled him aside. His hair was quite a mess of white, and his eyes were a dark stormy color.

This is the guy I ran into.. He thought suddenly as his eyes ran over the scar on his face, and down to look at his clothing. Or lack of, seeing how his torso was not covered. He felt a blush form on his face, and it burned as he realized this stranger was also looking him over. 

He broke the trance they both seemed to be in by leaning back and saying "I don't have any money on me." 

The man blinked and leaned away as well. "Ah.. Yes.." He seemed distracted as he forced his lips into a firm line again. 

"And I thought the people here were supossed to be kind like the rulers." The prince murmured. "Although I guess only two out of three are kind." With a chuckle he decided that mean some citizens were meant to take after him, and it wasn't as though he was mean, he just never came out of the palace (ever) and didn't go with Isis and Rishid when they took food to poor families and such. So the townsfolk called him the Ghost Prince sometimes.

The stranger raised an eyebrow. "What? Are you new here?"

"Sort of.." Marik answered.

"You should know you stick out like a strong Kuriboh." He said with a smirk. Marik flushed.

"What does that mean? I look just like you!"

"You have gold earrings on-" the thief swiped at one for emphasis. "-and a gold band around your throat. I've only ever seen royalty wear those. Not to mention your sandals have gold inscriptions on them and you look like you haven't touched sand a day in your life."

Marik pursed his lips when he realized the taller man was actually right. "Well.. Forgive me for not knowing what citizens dress like."

A shout interrupted whatever the white haired man was about to say, and Marik cursed when he recognized the voices. He shoved the thief away and said "Go." Before running down the alley toward the voices. When he appeared at the end, the voices changed to happy ones. 

 

Bakura was surprised. Why were guards looking for that boy? And why did they seem glad to see him? Apparently he wasn't a thief... But then..

Who was he?


	3. Chapter 3

When Bakura made it back home finally, it was late and the sun had set a few hours ago. After the boy had left, he had spent those few hours wandering aimlessly in the deserted areas of town. When he had decided to go home it was only because he was afraid Yami would be asleep for good, and unable to let him back in the house. (He had gotten in before in such a case because he was taller than Yami, but it was still a pain in the neck). 

He stepped through the hole in the bottom of the building, that emerged just below the ceiling of the basement of the house. A small ledge was just inside and once he was crouching on it, he stepped around so he could jump from it down to the only space of ground not covered in old falling apart furniture. Dust rose up in a cloud around his feet as he landed, and he coughed. A spider was also startled, and as it scurried away Bakura decided to kill it so Yami wouldn't freak out. Now up the ladder, he mused. Up the ladder through a hole in the ground to the first floor. This one was relatively cleaner, but a huge web of spiders on the left wall suddenly made Bakura realize how little he usually paid attention while climbing up.

He searched for a stick or broom and picked up an old floor plank to swat it away with. Two more spiders rushed off and Bakura killed them both before destroying the eggs they had planted there. The black smudges made him grossed out; he didn't like leaving dead guts around. Yami could clean them later, once Bakura said spiders flocked to dead one's bodies. 

Back on track, he headed up the spiral staircase along the outer wall through three more floors before he was at the sixth; a shabby room with rotting furniture and old tarps that had once been used to cover the tops of bazaar stands. Neither of them knew why this floor was such a wreck but it helped them climb up to the final floor so they had never cleaned it up. 

The thief stepped onto the beams the tarps stretched between until he was at the top of them, only a few feet below the tapestry covered hole.

He hit it once; stirring more dust. "Yami. I'm back."

He heard shifting above and a mumble before footsteps told him that Yami had stood and was approaching the hole. The tapestry slid aside carefully as Bakura reached up and gripped the edges to lift himself up with the help of another beam standing straight up just to the side of the hole. 

"Where have you been?" Yami murmured drowsily as Bakura sat on the edge of the hole. 

"Out." Bakura answered.

Yami snorted. "No duh. Did you bring me something?" His eyes became hopeful. Bakura pulled the kohl from his robe and tossed them to Yami. His friend squealed. "Where did you find these?"

"Some girl left them out." Was all the white haired man said before swinging his legs up and then going over to his bed. Yami raised an eyebrow at him, pulling the mat back over the hole before flopping into his pile of blankets. Bakura slipped his old sandals off and pulled out the other ones to try on. A content noise escaped him; his old shoes had long since been worn thin on the soles and caused his feet to become rough from climbing and stepping on rocky ground. To have actual comfort under his feet was quite a relief. 

Yami rolled onto his back, his leg propped up onto his other knee carelessly. His eyes were scanning Bakura's face narrowly, and finally he said "What happened?" Bakura looked at him briefly. "Something is eating you. Tell me."

"It's nothing." He answered.

Yami frowned almost comically, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Bakura. You're my friend and I'm kinda concerned. You never get down. In fact, you only ever show happiness when we are killing someone or robbing them. What gives?" 

Yami's words spoke a truth Bakura couldn't deny and he finally sighed before standing and going over to the tapestry covering the balcony. The tri-colored haired man clamored to his feet and rushed over; afraid to miss anything Bakura might whisper, and excited that he might finally open the balcony for once. Bakura used to go out onto it all the time and stare at the palace when he was in a sour mood, but that was when they were younger, and the scarred man hadn't shut off his emotions yet. Yami still didn't know why, but one day Bakura returned with the carpet and hung it up- saying nothing but to not open it. The shorter man had his suspicions; something like that the palace reminded Bakura of the life they had been forced to have since his family had died, or that he didn't want to be tempted to rob the royal family, but he had never confirmed or dismissed either of those theories and Bakura gave no hint. 

Ever since then, Yami had been wishing Bakura would remove the cloth, not only because he found the view breathtaking but because it would mean whatever had caused him to close it off had begun to be resolved. 

"Bakura?" He asked gently. "Did... Someone remind you of your parents again?" That had happened once, for a short time Bakura wouldn't leave the house because a woman who looked like his mom was with a caravan staying in town. Yami didn't blame him but he needed to know so he could get up early to get food tomorrow. 

Bakura turned and gave Yami a small reassuring smile. "No."

"Then what is it?" Yami huffed. He duly noted Bakura's fingers were touching the cloth over the balcony lightly. 

The white haired man laughed suddenly and he stepped away several feet. "Something stupid." 

The grin on his face most certainly was stupid. He looked drunk or similar to a puppy struck with-

Yami gasped, exaggerating it by puffing his chest and leaning back. Bakura raised an eyebrow at him like he had grown another head. "You!" Yami's excited voice rang through the area. An accusatory finger was raised, and as Yami stalked forward to his friend, he jabbed it into the tanned forehead. "You met a girl didn't you?"

Bakura rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Are you five?"

The man in question stomped his feet lightly; like a bounce a child did when promised candy. "You were the last time this happened! What's her name?"

The taller of them couldn't hide his slight blush as he looked away from Yami. "I don't know."

"She better not be a prostitute-"

"NO, Yami, god." He growled. "I'm not stupid."

Yami smirked. "Yeah okay. Who is she?"

"There isn't a girl." Bakura retorted. The look he was given spelled out that he wasn't being believed. The thief nervously rubbed the back of his neck with a glare painted onto his face. "... I don't know. Really. I just... Saw that she had lots of money and followed her, but we ended up talking instead and-"

"She had a lot of money?"

Bakura pursed his lips irritably. "Yes.. I assume, by how she was dressed... It's just that, she bit back at me. She didn't cower when I cornered her, but she yelled at me.. And it was weird. Aside from you no one has ever done anything but fear me, least of all stand up to me."

A smirk came to Yami's face and his eyes sparked with interest. "So? Was she pretty?"

Bakura's mind went back to the kid he had pushed into the alley; and now that he thought more about the elegant features on his face he questioned if it had been a boy or a girl. The blonde hair; unheard of in a place like Egypt, the lavender eyes; similar to Yami's but so much more defiant and innocent... He didn't realize it but a smile had slowly crept onto him again, and Yami was watching it with anticipation. Bakura never showed interest in people, especially romantic interest. But right in front of him his oldest friend was probably recreating the memory in his head and it made him happy. 

"Yes." He murmured. "But someone came and she left with them, after making sure they wouldn't find me." He met Yami's eyes. "She knew I was a thief, knew I meant to steal from her, and yet she wasn't afraid and she protected me." Bakura bit his lip as he tried to carefully chose his next words. "She was someone important based on her clothes and she had no idea what 'citizens' should look like." He trailed off as he tried to think of what this meant.

Yami didn't say anything but Bakura could read him easily. He was mulling it over as well and probably confused, just as Bakura was, but he remained silent so Bakura decided to change subjects.

"Come on, let's get some sleep."

Yami nodded and headed over to his bed. Bakura walked to his slowly, and when he dropped down among the blankets he found a lack of sleep, brought on by images of the boy he had met in the market; and questioning who he was really.

 

Isis was pissed.

No, pissed was an understatement.

If she had been pissed the night before during their argument, she was furious now. Flaming and hissing and ready to snap Marik's neck in half.

He gulped.

"Leave." The word left Isis's lips cold and hard as if a brick had been dropped onto the ground. The two guards who had escorted Marik to this room looked at each other before leaving as told. Each step they took made Marik cringe with the echo, and his heart thud with the panic of what was to happen next. When the door finally shut, his eyes darted away from her, and his pulse went on overdrive. 

Isis carefully crossed her arms and cocked her hip out as she shifted her weight onto her right leg. "Wanna tell me what you were doing out of the palace walls? In an alley?" Her tone was harsh and sharp. 

Marik made an uncomfortable face. "Shopping?" That reminded him of what he had bought, and he fished for it in his robes. His fist closed around it and he held it out to her. "I bought this for you." He explained.

Isis eyed it apprehensively for a few moments but didn't move. Marik felt an ache at the obvious rejection; not just of the gift but of him and his actions. He lowered his head a little. 

"Marik why would you leave?"

"Do you really have to ask?" He snapped. The girl looked taken aback. "After what I told you last night?" 

Finally she held up a hand and Marik stopped mid sentence. "Jounochi is still here. I am going to tell him to extend his stay until I have chosen you a suitor." Marik opened his mouth to argue but she interrupted. "Go to your room and stay there. I will have guards on watch of you from now on."

"Sister!"

"Quiet!"

Marik jumped at her raised voice. Her eyebrows were furrowed deep and her eyes burned with disappointment. "Go. Now."

The blonde prince had never been more hurt than he was now. Him and Isis barely fought, and the last few days that was all they had done. But even more so, Isis never yelled. Marik knew that meant she truly was upset; it just made him want to scream at himself. 

The palace room seemed endless as he rushed from it blindly with tears blurring his vision. Navigating the halls seemed to last forever before finally he was in his room and he flung himself into his bed. He had never been so defiant of his sister, of that he was sure, but he had also never been so stupid as to do something like escape the palace. He had almost been robbed to top it off too- if he had been Isis would have killed him for sure.

Marik's embarrassment had suddenly faded; to be replaced with a new feeling, that left him with a gentle smile and an image of stormy grey-blue eyes only inches from his own. He recalled the rough shove that had sent him into the wall, and the tough hands that had touched him. The same hands that had played with his earrings as their owner observed him. He knew the thief had probably been after his jewelry or money, but somehow he honestly didn't care. And he hadn't taken anything from him in the end- an act which Marik was grateful for.

But then why? He wondered. Why pull me away and then let me go?

The thief's laugh echoed in his ears and he buried his face into the pillows with a flush on his cheeks. Why are you invading my thoughts? He asked of the imagined picture. Why did I protect you?

Realizing he wasn't getting answers soon, he gave up and rolled under his blankets to sleep. A night that turned out to be empty for him as well, save for memories of the stranger he had encountered.

 

When Marik woke, it was only because a scaled head was butting into his shoulder playfully. As he pulled himself from his drowsiness, his eyes met the sky through his curtain and with a groan he sat up and rubbed his cheek. Slyfeir was sitting beside him with his tail tapping happily against the mattress. He smiles slightly and reached out to pet the dragon. "Hey," he murmured. "How late is it?"

Slyfeir made no indication he knew what had been said but he continued to tap his tail so Marik rolled his eyes before slowly getting to his feet. He was still dressed from his adventure the day before, even in his cloak, so he didn't have to change. The only thing he was really concerned about was Isis. He wanted to leave again; experience further excitement and thrills; and maybe... 

Marik sighed with the blush blooming on his tan cheeks. In solitude and the relaxation of morning he could easily admit that his thoughts had been overrun by this... Thief he had met. He didn't even know why. Never before had someone invaded his mind to bring dreams of flying together and laughing in unison. In fact, Marik was sure he had never even had romantic fantasies before. And who was to blame him? It wasn't like he hated all his suitors (he actually quite liked a few of them) but none of them had made him feel good or felt 'right' to be with. 

The prince sighed again. He felt really stupid for still believing in things like soul mates but he had always seen royal couples who came to visit and none of them seemed to really be happy. When he had been in the town yesterday he had seen plenty of happy couples, and they were all poor. He didn't know what else the difference might be aside from love.

Marik forced himself to change line of thought when he discovered a letter just under his door. The seal was blue wax with the shape of a dragon head in it. Unfamiliar as it was, his stomach dropped at it. With delicate fingers he flipped it over and stared at the front. There was no further indications of who the sender was.

The blonde boy carefully slid his finger under the seal to remove it from the paper before unfolding it. The inner side was marked by the sketchy outline of a similar dragon; painted with spread out lines of blue-white paint. Marik found it beautiful no doubt, but it didn't do anything to settle the sick bile rising in his throat. Under the dragon was fancy handwriting in dark blue ink that read;

Marik,

It has been some time since I received the news of your coming of age. As you probably know, this means suitors are vying for your affections and, eventually, your hand.

I have been invited by your sister, Princess Isis Ishtar, to entertain you a few days and possibly get to that point with you. 

This morning I will be in the courtyard with Isis as she introduces me to your palace staff. I would be pleased if you could come as well.

Sincerely,  
Prince Seto Kaiba

 

Bakura was asleep when Yami decided to go out to get food. He left the rug off so he could get back up, because his runs never took long and his lazy friend would probably still be asleep when he returned. 

The market was very empty which the tanned man was glad for because he was not a people person in the morning, but even this early it was super hot so no wonder. He used some coins they had got awhile ago to buy the breakfast (he just wasn't in the mood for stealing right now) and stealing with less people would have been to obvious. He smiled at the girl as he left with the food in a basket. He didn't get far though because nearby a man with a huge turban on his head stopped him firmly. 

"Do you want to buy some treasure?" He asked. 

Yami stared at him; unsure if he should be friendly toward him or appalled. With a jerk back the stranger's hand fell off his shoulder. "No thank you." Was his answer.

He made to sidestep around him, only to be stopped again. "Take a look!" The man urged. Yami wanted to shove him but knew that'd get him arrested pretty quick. Instead he grudgingly turned toward the man's booth and scoffed at the cheap "treasure".

"This isn't very valuable." He stated as he ran a finger over a weird looking gold ball. 

The turbaned man looked at Yami like he had said the God's weren't real. "Oh I disagree." The tri-colored hair moved as Yami glanced at the other end of the table and back to the man. He picked up a gold, thin ring that had several points hanging from it. A weird push force blew against Yami as if it was willing him away, but he couldn't help reaching out to it at the same time. His fingers brushed the metal smoothly and he almost shivered at the power pulsing through it. 

The man smiled and said "It seems it means you to take it." Yami numbly nodded and grasped it when he held it out further before handing him some money in return. "Have a good day." The man continued.

As Yami made his way back home he couldn't help feeling a bit excited; the item itself seemed to be dragging him back towards Bakura. But it wasn't until he actually reached their floor that he felt it really start resisting him. 

"Bakura!" He said loudly as he levered up into the hole in the floor. "Look!" He held the item toward his friend.

Bakura must have just gotten up because he was rubbing his eyes, but he perked up when he saw the ring. Yami grinned. "Have you seen this before? The man said it was treasure-"

The ring was snatched before he could finish his sentence, and carefully scrutinized by his grey eyes. "I feel like... I should have this." He responded in a mysterious tone.

Yami raised an eyebrow at the words. He had known Bakura long enough to know when he was joking and when he was serious; but this time.. Did he really think the object had a will of it's own? 

A shiver went up his spine as he wondered if somehow ancient things were beginning to happen. For better or worse.


	4. Chapter 4

Heart fluttering wildly, Marik rushed outside into the courtyard. His eyes flew wide as he came to a halt at the top of the staircase out of the palace; landing instantly on his sister. And then the tall, brunette man next to her. He turned slightly at the sound of Marik's feet and the prince stiffened a bit under his intense stare. 

Isis noticed the man wasn't watching the other side of the courtyard (where Slyfeir was playing) anymore and spun around as well. She gave Marik a wave to come over and once he had gotten to her side she smiled. "Marik, this is Prince Seto Kaiba."

Marik swallowed and let out a smile. Seto smiled back; thinly, and forced. But his eyes seemed somewhat interested nonetheless. "Pleasure to meet you." 

"Likewise." Seto replied smoothly. His voice was low, and almost disinterested, but somehow Marik could tell that wasn't really the case. Considering he was even here, and the letter he had written. He knew Isis hadn't done it only because she didn't have access to their seal. Once before she had written a fake note to get him to meet a girl, but that hadn't worked because he had already known said girl and didn't like her much. 

Isis looked between them a few times before clearing her throat and excusing herself. The prince waited until she was gone from the area to ask "Did you draw the dragon in that letter?" Of his companion.

Seto smiled for real this time. "Yes. I had my brother paint it though. I am no good with paints, as it were."

Marik laughed a little bit, feeling the awkward air fade away. "Same here. It was very beautiful though, so thank you both."

The prince bowed. As he stood he extended a hand out, gesturing toward the pond edge. "Would you like to sit?" Marik nodded, nervously; taking the hand lightly and following him to the pond. They sat on the edge of it like Marik usually did with Slyfeir when he was alone.

"So, Marik.." Seto's voice quieted the other man's thoughts. Marik looked up at him sharply. "Tell me about you."

Marik blinked. He hadn't ever really been asked about himself before, what was he supossed to say? "Ah.. Well, I guess I'm kind of childish, since I believe in a lot of kid like things..."

"Like what?"

"Well.." He trailed off. Was mentioning love a good idea in this situation? It was better than most, probably, he reasoned. "Like true love, and happiness.. I think that war is stupid and countries should strive for peace for the sake of protecting our people. Also, politics are stupid." Seto gave a small snort of amusement. "I don't get them and I don't get why we need them."

"Politics deal with things like other countries and your relationship with them, as well as finances and taxes." Seto explained. 

"Yeah and all that stuff hurts my people." Marik shot back. "Why do I need their money? The royal family is plenty rich.

Seto looked surprised by the sudden ferocity in his voice; but vaguely amused as well. As for if it pleased him or not, Marik couldn't tell. He remembered Isis's words, and wondered if being outspoken was part of his problem. These royals wanted someone to be (as Isis had said) their bitch, who was quiet and pretty and listened to him but didn't input her opinions.

They wanted a doll. A toy.

Marik felt his blood boil and he clenched one fist tightly by his side. The other prince didn't say anything if he noticed, and remained silent for a few moments.

"Marik... I understand. Really. But there are reasons for all these things, and that's why you should not be a ruler." 

Marik twitched. What was that supossed to mean??

"You have ideas that you think are right, and maybe they are morally, but they won't fly and they will make things worse. You need to be beside someone who knows what he is doing and pushes aside things like morality-"

The blonde stood quickly and whirled on the taller man still sitting. "You really think stealing money from people who can barely afford food is GOOD? I thought at first maybe I could make a friend out of you but now I know that isn't going to happen. If you have no further business here other than to insult me and my opinions, please leave." He pointed at the exit of the courtyard for emphasis; anger burning in his lavender eyes. Isis was going to kill him for this. Of that he was sure. But right now he didn't care. If he was going to be forced into a stupid marriage, it may as well be with someone who won't always beat down his words if he spoke and will agree with him and at least try to see his point of view.

Seto starred at Marik for several long, awkward seconds before he look hold of both Marik's shoulders and forced him to meet his eyes. "Marik. You are kind, and very loving. And I think it is nice for a change. You aren't selfish or spoiled. Sometimes you get upset, but only when you feel like people are trying to cage you. I really do understand how you feel. But there are certain things that just need to be done. Things that your sister and brother take care of because they are older. If you were involved you would understand it too, trust me." Marik felt a little embarrassed about his outburst now, at Seto's kind words and his cheeks were flushing dark because of it. He didn't know how to respond to this. 'Oh hey I have known you five minutes and just yelled at you cause I thought you were an ass. My bad.' Yeah, no.

"I'm.. I'm sorry." He murmured. "But I don't get it. I mean, people sometimes say war is necessary but I don't understand how it can be when it hurts the people I am supposed to protect..." Seto nodded in agreement. "And I don't see why I don't just pay for things since my family is royalty and we have money just laying around. Then they can keep theirs and not starve..." A brief image of the thief in the market yesterday flashed into his mind. Demanding money and trying to just...survive. It wasn't his fault he had to live that way; if anything... It was probably due to Marik or at least his family.

Seto sighed and stood carefully. "Trust me, I have tried to be nice. Sometimes there just isn't anything you can do. And sometimes people don't want your help."

The prince frowned. "Why not?"

"If I knew, I would tell you."

 

When Marik and Seto reentered the palace, Rishid was heading toward the exit, but seeing them he stopped and approached them with a smile. "It has been awhile since we saw you. Isis asked me to come make sure no one was killed."

Marik smiled at the joke. "Ah.. We had a little disagreement.. But no one is dead."

"Which is good because I rather like being alive." Seto muttered, also joking.

Rishid nodded his head slowly, obviously amused. "Then prince Seto, I have a bath prepared for you if you would like to head to your chambers before dinner."

Marik blinked. "Dinner? Were we out that long?"

Rishid nodded again. Seto chuckled a little. He met Marik's eyes and said "It was a pleasure talking to you. See you at dinner."

The shorter prince blushed but smiled and gave a bow as his companion turned to leave with Rishid behind him. He remained in the doorway awhile, just thinking and recalling things that had been said. After Marik's outburst, they had changed topics and talked about marriages as well as their parents. Seto said he had been adopted by the king when he was young, so he didn't remember if he had been living with his real parents beforehand, or if he had been an orphan. But from the way he had talked, Marik could tell he cared about his younger brother above everything else. And somewhere... Marik was envious. He wished he and his siblings had that kind of bond; the kind that protected each other from everyone else. But because of this stupid marriage business Marik and Isis had grown very far apart; even Marik and Rishid talked less and less every passing week. It seemed like the two of them looked out for each other and forgot Marik was there sometimes. 

The Egyptian boy rubbed the back of his head ruefully, trying to think. Maybe Isis would accept an apology and his necklace. It was worth a shot.

 

Bakura and Yami slept all day after finding the ring; and it wasn't until near sunset that they both awoke to a loud, annoying noise. 

"What the hell is that?" Bakura snapped as he rubbed his eyes.

"How should I know..." Yami grumbled. "It's coming from your stuff anyway." He tried to sit up but eventually just flopped over and curled up into his pillow.

Bakura rolled over and dug around in his things until he found the source of the humming. 

"The ring."

"What?" Yami drawled lazily.

"The ring is making the noise."

Yami sat up then; startled. He looked at the item in question and raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"How should I know?" Bakura replied. "It's kind of glowing too." 

Yami crawled over until he was leaning over Bakura's lap to reach the object and touched it. "It's not warm or anything. Why is it doing that?" He touched one of the points; which was slightly glowing yellow, and pointed out toward the palace. "Did you set it that way?"

Bakura shook his head. He glanced over at the other boy's body and pursed his lips. "Do you mind?"

Yami kept touching the ring. "Nope."

The white haired thief rolled his eyes and snatched the ring out of Yami's reach. "Get off me."

Yami did as told with a huff. "Whatever." He flopped back onto his butt while still observing the metal object. "Wonder why it's pointing like that." Bakura shrugged. "Maybe it shows what you really want." Yami laughed, waving his fingers mysteriously. 

"Yeah right." Bakura rolled his eyes and chuckled. "What could I possibly want at the palace?"

"Uh hello?" His friend snapped back, as if Bakura was an idiot. "Money? Gold? You know, the prince is supossedly of marrying age now. If you had him, you could have all his money and access to other countries too." He waggled his eyebrow suggestively before finishing. "And a lap dog."

Bakura grimaced. "Lap dog?"

"Yeah!" Yami replied. "There are so many rich people customs that would force him to do all you say. Everywhere." The thief just stared at him, confused. "Bakura. Really?"

"Excuse me for not being a pervert."   
"You're not forgiven." Bakura's eyes widened. He tried to look offended but Yami was staring at the ceiling; palms on the ground behind him and head hanging back. "Go to town and find this lover kid of yours. If she had expensive stuff then maybe we can make use of you fucking her."

Bakura sighed and rubbed his temples. "Yami... I am not going to molest a child just so you can have stupid gaudy makeup."

Before Yami could answer, the ringing from the metal item grew louder, and both men turned to look at it again. The yellow was more vibrant now, but the point was still pointed toward the castle. "Dude. It started doing that when you started thinking about that kid." 

"..Did it?" Yami nodded. "Why would she be over there?"

Yami sat up and took the ring from Bakura's hand before he could protest or stop him. The noise and glowing ceased almost instantly. To be replaced by a deeper drone and a different point going off in a different direction. The men scrambled to their feet, in awe, and flew to look out the window closest in the same direction. It went out over the town; and past that-the desert.

The spikey haired thief stared out at the sand dunes curiously, his interest peaked. "Why is it pointing that way?" He murmured. 

Bakura ran a hand over his chin, trying to think of anything he knew of out there specifically besides more towns. "Well... Isn't there supossed to be some ancient burial ground there?" 

Yami raised an eyebrow at the statement. "Of a king?" 

"Something like that. Supposedly he had a whole bunch of powerful items created and then buried with him, at the sacrifice of a whole village or something." Bakura commented. "Remember there was that one old man who told us the tale."

"Oh yeah!" The short man's eyes lit up. "So who was the king?" 

"Wasn't it the father of the guy ruling to the north?" 

They both groomed their memories for the name, but nothing else came to mind. "I wonder if the ring is pointing there.. But why did it change when you held it?"

"Maybe because I'm not love smitten, but after gold." His eyes glinted mischievously as he spoke and the taller one shook his head. 

"Whatever. Do you want to go and see if we can find it?"

"Don't we need a map before we go charging in tot he desert? And some idea of where we are going?"

"Hm." Bakura thought for a moment before saying "I have an idea."

"You always do." Yami laughed.

 

Jounochi was waiting outside Marik's room when he emerged; dressed for dinner in a fancy robe Isis had forced on him. It was traditional to wear it when being courted, but Marik honestly felt silly and like he was asking for attention. 

It was comfortable though... Made of thin, flowing layers of white and gold silk, it created the image of a golden dragon on his back over the different layers; with shining gold gems etched into the wings and eyes. The front was a little shorter than the back, to show the sandals that went with it. They went up to his mid-calf with gold bindings and a bright lavender stone on the band over his toes. Still he wore his regular golden bangles and earrings with it.

Jounochi's eyes went way wide when he turned to look at Marik. "Woah, someone went all fancy!"

Marik laughed. "Please. My sister made me. Apparently it is tradition or something." He fidgeted a little under his friend's gaze and added "Does it...look weird?" 

Jounochi shook his head with a smile. "You look great. Ready for dinner?" Marik nodded; blushing from the compliment. He had to say he much preferred the blonde's company over Seto's, but Isis seemed to think the Kaiba would make a better husband. She had said tonight he was to decide and let whoever it was know somehow. 

As if.

Instead, Marik planned to slip away and explore the streets again. Even dressed like this. He didn't care. He wanted to learn about the people and he wanted them to learn about him. Since he had spent so long hidden in the palace, he owed them to at least know all the could to become a great king. And maybe he could also learn who they favored among his suitors. And then at least they would be happy with his decision. If he had to, he planned to sneak Jounochi out with him so it appeared he was talking to him (which was what Isis wanted) without seeming too suspicious if they were gone for a long time.

The two blonde princes made their way through the hallways toward the dining hall, where much excited chatter was going on. A few of Seto's servants were in the doorway, and they all beamed when they caught sight of Marik. As he passed, the three women bowed and complimented his attire, to which he waved off with a smile. "No need to be so formal." He stated. They appeared surprised, but soon they were laughing again. Isis and Rishid were sitting at the head of the table, talking to a (very well dressed) tired looking Seto. His outfit was a deep blue with white trimming on the long robes. A lapis band was around his arm; the token a prince gave if he wished a princess would extend marriage to him. Jounochi must have been wearing one too, Marik realized, but his robes were longer, and green, with black edges and vine designs on the bottom. The hood also had some on it. 

Jounochi took a seat next to Isis, and the woman directed Marik to the chair at the very end of the table. She smiled at everyone and said to the servants they were ready to eat, before sitting back down. 

The night was mostly uneventful. Isis and Rishid asked the two visitors their thoughts and opinions on a number of topics ranging from war to taxes and back again; all of which Marik ignored while he tried to find a time to slip away. When he sensed his sister was growing impatient with him, he slowly pushed his chair out and stood. "Sister." The black haired girl glanced over at him, wide eyed. "I have made a decision. As is custom, I will take you both aside separately and tell you my choice." Seto and Jounochi both nodded. "So if you both would please follow me, I will tell you in the hall."

Isis's expression could only have been described as one of victory. Cold victory. And it made Marik shudder.

In the hall, Marik took a deep breath and said "I don't actually care much for any of this at all. And I have feelings that neither of you do either." 

Seto made a lop sided grimace. "I don't particularly care one way or another..."

"Then help me." Marik replied. "I need you both to stay hidden from my siblings for a few hours to make it seem like I have rejected one of you and am spending time with the other."

"What for?" Jounochi asked. 

"I'm sneaking out into town." 

Seto's eyes widened. Jounochi made an excited face; and his eyes glimmered with child like joy. "Can't we go with you?"

Marik pondered it. "Yeah, I guess." 

The brunette prince rolled his eyes but still followed them out of the area and toward the main door.

 

In town, Seto had quickly left the other men's side as though afraid they would embarrass him. Marik didn't think much of it, for his mind was elsewhere.

Namely... On a certain white haired stranger from the market.

Jounochi seemed to notice his companion was on some sort of mission, because he followed the prince through the streets without question. After a few minutes, they came upon the area where Marik had been walking when he had been startled by the man, and he tried to look for signs of him without seeming obvious or suspicious. It was hard enough as is being dressed the way they were.   
At one point they passed an old man who must have known what Marik's robes were ceremonial of; for he gave the pair a smile and complimented them both. Marik bowed his head respectfully before continuing on.

The moon was bright above them, and the dry air was cool as it blew in from the dessert. Only traces of heat were left in it and the ground of the town where the sand and clay had absorbed it during the day. More often than once, Marik found himself admiring how the pale light made his friend's eyes glow and his hair appear white. He was honestly surprised that he didn't already have a wife (or husband); he was very enjoyable to be around after all.

A familiar figure appeared; face hidden by a deep blue robe that only a caravan could have hold of. But there was no hiding the long, curly blonde hair.

"Mai?" Marik stepped in front of the woman and grabbed her shoulders firmly. The person looked up quickly into Marik's eyes and he smiled. "It is you! Do you remember me?"

The violet eyes shone with familiarity and a grin broke over her face. "Sir! It is a pleasure to meet you again!"

They hugged, Jounochi watching with wide confused eyes. As they pulled back, the woman caught sight of Marik's companion and her smile faded. "Ah..." Marik looked between them a bit awkwardly. "This is my friend Jounochi. Jou, this is Mai. She and I met in the market the other day."

"Oh I never caught your name." Mai murmured as she turned back to the tan boy. 

"Marik Ishtar." He said. Her face told her surprise; although she didn't make a scene of it, Marik felt uncomfortable under the confession, so he moved on. "Mai, Jounochi is visiting. Would you show us around town?"

"At night?" She laughed. Jounochi blushed a little as he smiled. "Well it is quieter. And prettier." She grabbed both the men by the elbows and lead them back the way they had been cooking from. "It would be my pleasure."

 

Seto wasn't stupid. He could usually figure out his way around towns, or cities, or wherever. But for some reason he was having difficulty finding his way back to the palace in this very confusing town. Why had he agreed to follow those two idiots anyway? 

With a sigh, he stopped and folded his arms. The palace was right in front of him. It had been for at least twenty minutes. 

So why wasn't he able to get over to it??

When he was just about to end the search and head over to where Marik and Jounochi had said they were going, he spotted someone a few feet down the alley. A small, short figure, but a person all the same. Seto began to walk toward him quickly. "Excuse me." He called.

The person whirled around quickly to face him; nervous eyes wide and flashing with fear. 

And Seto was frozen.

His eyes were bright; shining and a deep purple that he had never seen before. He could barely even focus on the rest of his face, but he managed to note his hair was quite a mess around pale skin. 

"I need directions." The words slipped out of his mouth, just as the stranger turned and bolted from the area. Alarmed, Seto took off after him in a run. "Wait!" He gently yelled; not wanting to disturb anyone nearby. He rounded a corner just moments after the other did only to find no trace of him on the street. Seto furrowed his eyebrows as he glanced around.

"Where did you go?" He whispered. "And who are you?"

The street remained silent as the wind picked up and carried his words out of earshot from the hiding place of Yami; not three feet off. And he stayed hidden until the mysterious man had left- though his heart still beat wildly and those blue eyes were burned into his memory.


End file.
